


The Chain

by sparklingice



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood Kink, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Codependency, Consensual Kink, Deepthroating, Drabble, Established Relationship, Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, Obsessive Behavior, POV Dean Winchester, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Sex, Sibling Incest, Smut, The Impala (Supernatural), Twisted, dark boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:54:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21812479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklingice/pseuds/sparklingice
Summary: The first time Sam got a taste for blood didn't happen with Ruby.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 66





	The Chain

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to one of my favourite songs, The Chain by Fleetwood Mac, and felt inspired. I'm actually squicked out by blood play, but this happened somehow. I decided to post it to get back into the swing of things.
> 
> Personal note:  
> Sorry for the delay on my sci-fi fic, it's coming, but I caught a nasty illness that ruined all my plans.

The first time Sam got a taste for blood didn't involve any demons other than the ones coiling in their hearts, holding the chain that tugged and twisted their devotion into obsession. Dean had just hit twenty, built the first layer of real muscles and earned deeper scars, and Sam was at the stage where he wanted it all the time. Wanted Dean with a passion they will never get back again, he knows.

"Are you okay? Is it bleeding?" Sam fretted as Dean pulled over to the roadside to stretch his legs. They were on their way back from a grocery run, but it was still too early for Dad to be awake after that messed-up hunt and Dean wanted to feel fresh air on his face. He climbed out of the car, and Sam followed him to run his hands over Dean's bandaged chest through his shirt.

"Should I -"

That whiny, miserable tone made Dean itch to hit something. He pushed Sam away and leant back against his Baby, squinting into the empty, damp meadow ahead. "It's just a scratch, don't get your panties in a twist."

His eyes burnt from fatigue, but he relished how it hurt to close them and let the ache spread to his limbs. It made him satisfied, somehow, like he did a good job.

"Let me see." Sam demanded, not for the first time since Dean came home wincing last night. His slender hand sneaked under Dean's clothes with unusual shyness, spanning his bare stomach gently. "Please."

Dean snapped an eye open to glare. Not fucking fair. He growled. "At least make it up to me if I have to stand naked on the goddamn shoulder."

Sam rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, he got his way. Dean's shirt landed in the backseat, the old bandage in the footwell, and the gash was well and truly on display, pebbling with blood where Dean pulled on it too much while driving.

"God." Sam sighed, and it sounded agonised and dirty as he walked his soft fingertips along the line.

Dean's nipples tingled from the sting the salt on Sam's skin rubbed into his wound. They were pink and naked just beside Sam's knuckles, vulnerable, easy targets. The wind picked up and bit into their hard peaks, scraped Dean's jawline raw and made the warmth rushing to his cheeks throb. His lips dropped open.

"Don't you need stitches?" Sam asked, shifting perfectly into the space between Dean's thighs. A drop of thick, crimson blood landed on his index finger - and without thinking, he pulled it to his mouth and licked it off. Dean gasped.

"Sorry." Sam whispered, looking anything but that.

"How does it taste?" Dean stammered, cock heavy and fat against his zipper. It disturbed him, how much he craved to see Sam's innocent, unblemished body covered in traces of violence committed against his own. Wanted Sam to wear his blood as a mark. A sign that Dean protected him and always will, as long as there's anything left to give.

"Like mine." Sam replied and bent down, as if in a daze, to put the tip of his tongue to the gaping line on Dean's chest and follow the pathway right up to his heart. Dean's blood dribbled on his lips and smeared tracks on his chin until he licked it all up and pressed one last kiss to the torn skin. It felt like salvation.

Dean hissed as the pain laced through his nerves, then he was kissing Sam, lapping after the metallic tang of his own blood until nothing but sweetness remained, Sam's taste, the purity none of their filth had managed to erase. Sam's hands fluttered down to his waistband and unzipped his jeans, then he was down on his knees cradled by Dean's own, mouth filled full and stretched, the best look. He sucked on the tip of Dean's cock and rubbed it on his plush lip, let it flatten the blood-red, slick flesh. He loved Dean like no one else before. Out there, on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere, adorned by a crispy cold dawn and absolute freedom.

"Fuck, Sam." Dean grunted and looked up to keep his heart together, watched the pale sun rise to cut warmth through the chilly wind as if he couldn't look away. Sam's free hand reached up to cover the gash and feel Dean's pulse beat.

"Deeper." Dean whispered in awe, their vicious benediction, and guided Sam's head until Sam's nose brushed his stomach and the wet warmth of his throat welcomed him inside. They sank into the well of their sin together 'cause it hurt so good.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is welcome and appreciated. :)


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